Taming the Storm (The Storm #3)(44)
Author: Samantha Towle

More than I’ve ever wanted to fuck a woman before, but—

“You don’t want to do this with me.”

What?

Okay, I know I sound like a pussy, but she’s hurting from the stunt that idiot, Robbi, pulled. No matter how much I want to bang her, I do actually care about her, and I can’t have sex with her while she’s hurting. It wouldn’t be right.

The last thing I want is for her to regret fucking me.

Trying to keep my control, I dig my fingers into her waist. But all that does is make me harder as I feel the soft flesh of her skin beneath the fabric of this fuck-hot dress she’s wearing.

“Firecracker, I need the truth here. Are you doing this because Robbi hurt you? Or because you really want me?”

She eyes me with insouciance. “I’m not hurt, Tom. I’m horny.”

I let out a sigh. “I just can’t keep doing this push-and-pull shit with you, Ly.”

Her eyes soften. She rests her hand on my chest. My heart is beating like a motherfucker beneath her palm.

“Is that what I do? Push and pull with you?”

My eyes narrow. “You know you do.”

Her fingers grip my shirt as her eyes lower. “Have I…hurt you?”

I let out a short laugh. “No, you haven’t hurt me. You just confuse the hell out of me, so I want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reason—not because you’re feeling hurt and pissed off over some little dipshit who wasn’t smart enough to see you for your real worth.”

I know she usually reacts badly when she’s angry. I got that loud and clear when she kissed Robbi because she thought I was into Ashlee.

“I don’t want you to regret having sex with me.”

Why am I still talking?

Now, I actually sound like I’m trying to talk her out of this.

I have her right where I’ve literally dreamed about having her for months. I’m minutes away from being inside her, and my lips won’t stop fucking flapping.

I seriously need to learn to shut the fuck up.

She inches up, hovering her mouth over mine. Her lips whisper, “I’ll regret it if I don’t. I regret walking out on you when we were in the bedroom the other day. I don’t want any more regrets, Tom. I know you want me. I can feel that you do.” She reaches her hand down, wrapping her delicate fingers around my denim-covered cock.

My eyes roll back into my head. I can’t seem to catch a steady breath. My lungs are full of her. She’s everywhere…around me, on me, in me.

I’ve never felt this way with a woman before. I really need to get a grip and regain some control.

She grazes her teeth over my bottom lip. I feel it everywhere.

“I want this…I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted any man before. I want you to fuck me, Tom…please.”

The feel of her and the sound of her sexy voice begging me to fuck her snaps my control.

I plunge my fingers deep in her hair and crash my mouth on hers.

I’m a man possessed. Uncoordinated and out of control. My tongue is fucking her mouth. There’s no restraint, no patience. I can’t get enough of her. Weeks of pent-up frustration from wanting her for so damn long explodes out of me and is channeled into this one kiss.

If I carry on like this, it’ll be over in minutes.

It can’t be over in minutes.

My fingers find the hem of that sexy dress, and I pull it over her hips.

Grabbing her ass in my hands, I lift her off the floor, our mouths still fused together.

Her legs go around my waist, and her hands pull at my hair while she moans in my mouth.

I know the feeling, baby.

It’s like I’m climbing out of my skin and into hers. I can’t get enough…be close enough to her.

This is insane. I’ve never felt like this about a woman before.

I’m always in control. I take my time. Women beg me to give it to them.

But this…it feels like I’m the one begging her. I might not be saying the words, but my body sure as hell is.

Regaining a margin of control, I start moving toward the bedroom, toeing off my shoes as I go. I lay her down on the bed, positioning myself between her thighs. We still haven’t broke from kissing. Well, maybe kissing is too good of a word for what we’re doing. We’re basically mouth-fucking.

Finally stopping for a breath, I break the kiss. No matter how much I want to keep on kissing her, I want to see her naked more.

I stare down at her. The only light coming in is from the living room, but I can still see that her eyes are glazed over with lust.

“I want you,” she whispers, breathless, as her wide eyes blink up at me.

She’s finally mine.

The knowledge makes me want to beat my chest and thank the gods.

“You have me,” I say. “You’ve had me for a long time.”

I shift up onto my knees. Sitting over her, I reach for her dress. She sits up, allowing me to remove it. I have to tug a bit around her tits as the dress seems to be stuck, and as I do, I hear this weird ripping sound.

Shit, did I tear her dress?

Whatever. If I have to, I’ll buy her a new one. I’ll buy her a million dresses if it means I finally get to be inside her.

I drop her dress to the floor, and when I look back, I see—well, not what I was expecting to see.

Lyla’s looking down at her tits as she picks something off of them.

My head tilts to the side. “Um…what the fuck are you doing?”

Her eyes lift to mine, and a blush rises in her cheeks. “Tit tape.” She scrunches her nose as she holds up a piece of sticky tape between her thumb and index finger.

She looks so fucking adorable right now.

“Had to keep my girls in place somehow.” She shrugs, letting out a sweet-sounding laugh.

I chuckle, shaking my head, watching her, as she peels off another piece of tit tape. I hope to hell it’s the last piece because I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands to myself.

She balls up the pieces of tape and flicks it onto the floor.

“Done.” She gives me a sexy smile as she pushes her chest out to me. “They’re all yours.”

I laugh again. Then, I look down at her tits, and all laughter fades from my mouth.

Perfection. Absolute perfection. Just like I thought they would be. Big. Real. Perky. With taut pink nipples waiting for me to pay them the attention they deserve.

I reach out and cup her tits in my hands.

They feel as good as they look. Perfect fit for my hands, like they were made just for me. Heavy and so very real. After way too long of handling fake tits that seem to be the norm in LA, I cannot wait to wrap my mouth around those beauties of hers.